Question: when an Uma Musume is about to step onto the track, what kind of feelings should she have?
Mejiro McQueen, in truth, had never cared about such a thing. After all, she had never even developed any sort of habit of interacting with the crowd.
Before the race, after the race—she was, in every sense, someone who looked down on everyone.
But that was before.
That was only back when there was something more important than running itself. That was only the expression she wore under the condition that she couldn't go back, and didn't want to go back.
At that time, she wasn't running for herself, nor running for the fans. Forget ignoring others—she didn't even have herself in her eyes.
She ran only to chase that shadow which had already vanished in the distant past. She ran with no expectation of any response from anyone.
But that was before.
Now McQueen turned her eyes to the one beside her—standing together at the entrance of the hall, hiding just behind the only window, gazing out through the glass at the surging crowd outside.
Her own adorable onee-sama, who even though small in stature, stood so straight, as though she could shield the whole sky and earth and block anything that tried to come crashing in.
"Even when facing so many people, Song-neesan doesn't show even the slightest bit of nervousness…?"
Could she call her current feelings envy? Maybe not exactly. Then was it not envy? Maybe a little.
In short, McQueen's emotions right now were tangled together in a complicated knot. She didn't know how to judge what it was she was feeling.
All she could think was—no matter the scene, Song-neesan could always be this calm, this strong. Amazing.
"It's not that I don't get nervous, McQueen. Or rather… right now, aren't you the one nervous?"
Gotham Song clearly perceived McQueen's state of mind.
After the Japan Cup ended—no, to be precise, after she truly returned to her younger sister's side—that cold, hard outer shell had been melting away at an astonishing speed.
Or perhaps it was only ever there in the first place to protect the softness inside?
But Gotham Song knew one thing, and reminded herself of it constantly.
Even if her dear little sister was becoming softer, more tender, she would never return to the firm, unyielding adorableness of before.
Now, beneath McQueen's determined expression, there was a fragility—delicate, sensitive, a fragility that could be shattered easily, even by a single name.
This is your responsibility, Gotham Song. As her elder sister, you have to carry it. No matter what, don't run away, don't give up…!
"But nervousness is normal, McQueen. In fact, when facing this many people, the old you who never got nervous—that was the worrisome one."
"Often, nervousness is the right thing. Someone who looks calm may just not be saying it aloud. In truth, her heartbeat might already be pounding, racing like mad."
As she spoke, Gotham Song took McQueen's hand, pressing it against her chest, letting her feel that clear, powerful thrum.
This is the heartbeat of someone you think never gets nervous. Understand now? Even someone as strong as the me in your eyes—right now my blood is boiling, my nerves are tight.
Smiling softly, Gotham Song looked at McQueen, who turned her gaze away, no longer daring to meet her eyes. Only then did she release her and pick up her scepter.
Wearing her military dress uniform, she adjusted her collar and shoulder-cape, set her small cap straight, and with steady steps forward, spoke the words she truly wished to tell McQueen.
"Since we're both nervous, then it should be me, the elder sister, who takes the first step, McQueen. Don't worry. All you have to do is catch up—"
"After all, we promised, didn't we? To keep running together."
Gotham Song didn't wait for a reply. She raised her thumb in a gesture to McQueen, then strode ahead out of the hotel.
McQueen, left behind, clutched her skirt hem tight, tasting for the first time the strange, foreign flavor of nervousness mixed with shyness.
Then let onee-sama go first, alright?
If you, as the younger sister, can't yet take the step.
Out the door, down the steps—her stride was steady, powerful. But Gotham Song's heartbeat truly had sped up, pounding louder and louder.
She would never lie to McQueen. And right now, the thunder of her pulse was so fierce even she herself couldn't help but hear it clearly.
This body—born to trample the racetrack, tempered afterwards with nothing but sweat and effort—was yearning. Yearning for something it had done so many times before.
The track? Nothing but a pitiful toy beneath my feet. Everyone ought to remember that well, carved into them by defeat, again and again.
The crowd welcoming Gotham Song was vast—so vast it seemed even greater than the Japan Cup before.
And yet she was only the fourth in popularity—?
But of course, being fourth didn't mean her fanbase was small.
There were three reasons she landed fourth.
First: she had already secured her priority entry long ago, without needing the vote.
Second: the other top Uma Musume had such dramatic stories that they gained bonus points in popularity.
And third…
Many fans who supported both her and other girls believed everyone else would vote for Gotham Song anyway—so why not give their votes instead to those pitiful little ones?
Some of those same fans were shocked themselves: The Demon King Song, only fourth in popularity?!
But this didn't matter. If anything, Gotham Song felt a little vicious satisfaction—she almost wished not a single soul had voted for her.
After all, after crushing the Japan Cup, she had the absolute priority to stand here, in this race that might not be the most prestigious, but was certainly the most special in Japan.
But since the ones gathered here at the hotel gates were all supporters who adored her, Gotham Song didn't keep a cold face. She met every gaze, step by step forward without pause.
Only—this time, the welcome brought her a few surprises.
First, a tall Uma Musume with flaxen hair—someone both familiar and unfamiliar.
She felt she knew her well, as though they'd brushed past somewhere. But for some inexplicable reason she couldn't place, the impression lingered strongly.
Why was that…?
Deep in thought, Gotham Song unconsciously slowed her pace, turning to look at the girl by the roadside.
Their eyes met, tightly locked, sparks striking between them in the air.
Beautiful eyes… eyes? Ah, yes. Now I remember.
That Uma Musume she had seen once at URA. Truly beautiful, and distinctive—eyes full of shattered stars, and a great X across them.
Gotham Song gave her a nod. The girl answered with a faint smile.
But in the end, Gotham Song couldn't recall her name. Likely she had never heard it in the first place. With that, she abandoned the thought and stepped forward once again.
And then—an utterly ridiculous sight.
A pink-haired Uma Musume with both arms raised high over her head, so excited she was crying tears of gratitude.
"By the Three Goddesses, to witness with my own eyes Demon King Song's departure ceremony—it's bliss beyond death!!!!"
"The Three Goddesses' grace can never be repaid!!!!!!"
So many tears. Such intense weeping.
The corner of Gotham Song's lips nearly twitched. She almost couldn't keep her composure.
If she let her expression slip here—showing her speechless amusement—then the days of the cold-faced Demon King would be over. She'd become a comedy star instead! Never!
What to do?
Ah—close your eyes, quicken your steps, just cover it up and move on!
Gotham Song picked up her pace slightly, leaving that disgraceful pink-haired one far behind.
Really now—Miss Agnes Digital, as a well-known Uma Musume, surely you ought to have some sense of public image, right?
Gotham Song knew her name. A strong contender for URA's Horse of the Year, Miss Agnes Digital had taken several G1 victories overseas.
But though she knew of her status in every sense as a heavyweight, only after meeting face to face did she truly understand what the name "Agnes Digital" embodied in terms of emotion.
Put aside everything else—her wailing was so intense one might wonder if she would collapse to the ground at any moment.
Ai, Digital, Agnes Digital.
Gotham Song continued forward. But what she saw now was quite a number of young fillies, their eyes fixed on her with a fervor—strange, heated, burning.
Why could she tell at a glance that they were fillies?
Because among them, the oldest still hadn't fully completed maturation, while the youngest clearly hadn't even begun—!
Gotham Song could see it instantly, and seeing it made her entirely at a loss for words.
Dancing Brave had, in fact, warned her: as a legendary-class Uma Musume, once she publicly announced her status as a trainer, she would inevitably face something that would leave her speechless and helpless.
What was that?
It was this—these fillies who wanted to be part of Gotham Song's team. Those who hadn't debuted yet, or had only just debuted and hadn't even finished their Newcomer Year—her fanatical fans!
All that could be said was—now that she was seeing them with her own eyes, they were clearly not few in number. In fact, Gotham Song even spotted, further away, several figures who were probably rookie trainers.
They wore their trainer badges tucked into their breast pockets, showing off the edges, as though to prove their professional identity.
The group spoke in low voices, scribbling notes into a notebook, all the while casting glances her way.
What were they doing…?
Surely they weren't scouting—trying to find, among these eager fillies, a potential partner who could help them rise and make a name with good results?
Gotham Song nearly lost her composure. She could only keep her gaze fixed forward—
Because gathering all these fan-fillies into her own team was impossible. Just as it was impossible for her to take the role of Central Student Council President, Gotham Song knew she could never carry such a crushing responsibility.
Since she could not bear it, she would not grant even the chance.
She knew she could not be responsible for any filly who came forward with hope. So all she could do was silently say sorry to these strangers, and accept none.
On second thought, though—the rookie trainers being here was a good thing. If fate truly allowed some to meet and form partnerships, even to grow together and achieve great things, then Gotham Song would feel joy for them. If necessary, if they truly came together, she could even serve as a witness.
But in the end—such a responsibility was not hers to take. So all she could do was keep her eyes forward, and focus on what she, as an Uma Musume, ought to be doing now.
Still, come to think of it, she should have caught up by now, right?
Because if she doesn't catch up—she'll be left behind by me again, won't she?
And as Gotham Song advanced, suddenly the noise behind her swelled louder. Aware of what was about to happen, she stopped her steps. Standing upright with her scepter, eyes closed, she waited in place—until the sound of clear footsteps reached her side.
"See? Even if you're nervous, once you face it—it isn't so difficult after all, is it, McQueen?"
"Y-Yes… I'm not nervous. No, that's not it—I mean, I won't let nervousness drag down my steps, onee-sama. I'll prove it to you!"
Prove it to me, hm… ah, I just remembered. Long ago—wasn't it here, at Nakayama? After the Satsuki Sho was over…
"McQueen."
"Yes…?"
Gotham Song smiled gently, turning her eyes toward her sister at her side. She reached out, took her hand, and in the middle of the world's clamor, the two of them walked forward as if hearing nothing, only attuned to each other.
"Actually, ever since your debut, I've tried to watch all your races, you know?"
"Though in the end… I still missed your debut race."
Her voice held an endless regret. Yet before McQueen could blurt out her flustered words of comfort, Gotham Song spoke again, cutting her off.
"It's fine. I only mean—do you remember, McQueen? Us at Nakayama, that promise?"
"The… the Satsuki Sho promise…?"
Yes—the promise at the Satsuki Sho. A promise already broken long ago.
But back then, it was because it had been dragged out too far, and so it couldn't be fulfilled. This time, though…
"So—as my forgiveness, McQueen. Will you walk with me into the racetrack, and give me, at last, a race that fulfills that promise?"
Gotham Song blinked at her sister. After a short silence—
The pale lavender-haired Uma Musume drew a deep breath. With solemn expression, she gave her answer.
"This is our promise, Song-neesan. Please watch carefully."
"My growth."
Her own radiance—Mejiro McQueen's radiance, belonging only to herself.
For this one time alone, even if she had to burn everything, she would bring out all that she had.
For this rare chance to make their promise real at last.